Chipmunks carrying cups of cocoa for a course of chattation find themselves in disagreement regarding whether or not the paths of gas giants require scurrying or surveying—as the plaintive one mourns the acorns lost to the morning commute and the palmy one lauds the photos snapped from new telescope’s shoot. ; )
Archive for May 2020
Ah, yes. I see. But, no, no, no—some ducks *do* belong in a tree instead of asea—I mean apond—or alake.
From here, I can use dataveillance to create counter-strategies against those who would try to ambush my water-based kin.
If even just a thraneen of suspicious rustling is noticed below, quacks will warn others to safety, even if out of their row.
My feathers exemplify each swatch in the gamut of hues known to exist for my kind, allowing me to blend in with all sorts of leaves in any tree I might find.
Also, I find that branches excel at providing places for more introverted ducks to secure peace at will and since not all shoots involve cameras, escapism experienced out of reach will always fit the bill. ; )
Pensive panda wonders why the creature in tan keeps prompting mating encounters when introverted panda just wants to be left alone. Fed-up panda might just assail unctuous hairless-monkey-man if it does not respect fuzzy-Oreo-bear’s autonomy. Instead of insisting on the continuance of nugatory attempts of micro-management, yin-yang raccoon-giant would prefer associates leave sleeping pandas lie, whether for afternoon snooze or under sidereal sky. ; )
When one’s hope builds itself up to a level of vehemence, a building might just be the most appropriate medium for relaying aforementioned virtue.
Experiences empirical clearly illuminate paths preferred.
Seeing a feeling as a cognoscitive concept turns a fidgeted doover into a practical Hoover. ; )
Oh, dearest me and dearest kitty, we should *not* have read that article, ‘Nipping Your Cat In The Bud’. Not only was it quite the longueur of janglery, but it certainly did not address what was guessed to be tactics for finessing a fussy feline into favoured feats. Who on Earth would have thought it was about spaying your furry friend with household items, scilicet fingernail clippers, cotton swabs, and ice cubes??? I agree. We *should* place the read in a tub of alkahest, where its absurdity can be turned into mental images of rainbow mice chewing away on cheesy rice—much needed eye bleach for what we just experienced as a sort of bizzaro preach. ; )